Short Dick Man

by A Hoof-ful of Dust

Rating: mature
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Romance, Sex, Human
Length: 3000

Being a human dating a pony comes with problems: small, little, tiny, incompatible-with-equine-physiology problems.

You're a human scientist in Equestria, and your work living among the ponies to learn about them is going great: they're all cool with you being around, you get plenty of fresh air and exercise, you're pretty much left to do your own thing. You're even dating one of their princesses!

There's just one problem.

One small, little, tiny, incompatible-with-equine-physiology problem.

Published 2014-06-16 19:40:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-16 19:40:04 UTC

Short Dick Man

'Short Dick Man'

It's a beautiful day in Ponyville. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and you are one stoked motherfucker.

A few months have passed since you first went through the portal to Equestria, and you're pretty comfortable with your role here as observer and sociologist for your race and as general curiosity for the brightly-colored ponies. You take your notes and write up field reports and send them back to the human world; you're not the only person doing this, but all the others are off in other parts of Equestria. You've run into the guy covering Canterlot, once. He was kind of a dick.

Technically, you all work for the highly-classified black ops branch of the government, but it's not like you're in on the spying and the assassinations and the alien cover-ups or any of the cool shit like that. You're more like a freelancer. You've never had any military training--hell, you've never even held a gun in your life--but you've got the kind of high-level clearance that makes regular army guys shit their pants and get the fuck out of your way if you flash it at them. Or, well, so you figure. Maybe they laugh at you for trying to pass off your bullshit credentials they've never heard of because they're certainly not on the books anywhere. You've never actually been around many regular army guys, either.

You're a pretty average dude. Like, okay, you were working with theoretical physics when you were a civilian, but it's not like you were well-known in your field or anything. You weren't even that well-known in your lab. That's probably what they were looking for, though; people who could just go missing from the world so they could go explore another one. But you're really no different from any other kinda-smart guy you meet in life. You have glasses. You had a Dilbert strip stuck up at your desk. Your wardrobe was exclusively jeans and t-shirts from the Internet, except when you'd bust out the same tie for Christmas. You'd reference Star Trek in conversation, but you thought Babylon 5 was a better show. Typical nerd.

But here, though. Here, you're like a superstar. Everyone... fuck, everypony (you can never get that right) always waves to you and says hi and stuff. They all remember your name, which makes you feel like a bit of an ass because you're kinda shitty with remembering all of theirs. They're all real friendly, too--well, they were a bit weird about there being this tall monkey-looking thing in their town to begin with, but they don't seem to bat an eyelid at the little dragon who hangs out here too, so you guess they're just like that. Friendly with weirdos, that is.

Like, Fluttershy is always up for giving you some fish; she says she catches too much for all those animals she has that eat fish, but you're on to her. You kinda miss red meat, but too much of that shit is like a recipe for all the heart attacks the day you hit forty, so it's probably good to be all about the fish and salad (you're still a little bit weirded out by the whole flower sandwiches thing). You're no mooch, though, so you always hang out and try to help her out with stuff when you can. She's cool.

And Rarity practically showers you with stuff to wear every time she sees you. You'll just be out in the street minding your own business and you hear it from across town, almost: "Dahling, you simply must come by the Boutique right away," and blah blah blah. She won't take no for an answer. You've tried. The stuff she makes is a little more... fruity, than you'd normally go for, but it's comfortable and it's not like there's really anyone around to see you wear it.

There's also... goddammit, what's her name? The green one. She won't leave you alone, she's got like a billion questions about how stuff works in the human world. And the funny thing is, she kinda has a vague idea about it already, but she's just so fucking wrong on the specifics. Maybe that dick in Canterlot was messing with her, or something. It's kinda cute, how eager she is about knowing everything. It's like talking to a four-year-old who can make full sentences, and spit them at you like a machine-gun. If there's ever any word about sending any of the ponies to our side of the portal, you're gonna recommend she's one of the ones that goes through.

And then... there's Twilight Sparkle.

She's a lot like you, in many ways. She's smart, but kind of a dork around people. You relate to each other on a dork-to-dork level that most other of these super-outgoing ponies don't get. She's also apparently had some prior experience in the human world, but from what she's told you it doesn't sound quite like the universe you're from. Maybe it's the one next door, or maybe she's just explaining stuff in horse terms and it's you who's getting confused. She's been your go-to for explanations of pony culture, since anything she doesn't know herself she can look up in that big-ass crystal library she lives in. You've spent more than a few days just chilling there, both of you reading books. You call it cultural research and she calls it studying, but really what you've been doing is spending time together.

She's the reason you're so stoked right now.

See, you and her are kinda dating. It's nothing official (you're not even exactly sure what officially dating would be--you've got your suspicions that it's some bullshit made up by Hollywood), since she's a princess and you're pretty sure the mountain of paperwork you had to sign saying you'd shut up about what you're researching back home under penalty of disappearing into the back of an unmarked van said you couldn't do something like this, and besides, everything's been pretty low-key up until now. Nothing to write home about, ha ha. It started with the two of you hanging out together, sharing differences about your two worlds and swapping knowledge--you've tried to bring her up to speed on the advanced physics concepts that went into building the portal and she's tried to educate you on the underpinnings of magic, and so far you've both been talking Greek to each other the whole time--and then it moved on to you thinking she might have been flirting with you a little so you started flirting back and then you had a thing going, and then there was the time when you'd spent way too much of the day in her library-castle-thing to the point that the sun was almost down and she kissed you--she had to ask you to bend down, which was a little awkward but mostly sweet--and turned bright red and said goodnight, and then there's been a couple of times since then where you've both been alone together reading and simultaneously you've both decided, fuck it, and you started making out. It's how people get together with people. Or, well, with ponies. Not that there's much of a precedent for that or anything.

Anyway, nothing's going to ruin your mood today because of what's going to happen tonight. Twilight's been hinting that she wants to fuck you, and she's not exactly very good at being subtle. She's cleared her schedule and made sure you've done the same. She's even got Spike off doing something with those three kids that don't have little pictures on their butts yet--Spike's pretty cool to you and all, but you don't really want him suddenly walking in on you banging someone who's basically his sister. That would probably be a misstep in inter-dimensional relations. Anyway, you know it's a sure thing. And you like Twilight enough to weather whatever kind of shit you get for being the first human to have sex with a magical talking unicorn-pegasus princess.

So you walk with a spring in your step. You're a pretty average guy, so it's a big deal to know you'll be the first person to do anything.

-/-

Twilight's bedroom is lit with candles. Candles that are meant for a romantic mood, too, and not just the normal kinds of candles that everyone uses here. You raise your eyebrows.

"No rose petals?" you ask, smiling.

Twilight looks confused. "If you're hungry, I could..." she starts.

You laugh and wave her off. "No, forget it. Human thing. Roses are a romantic symbol, so--"

"Right, I keep forgetting what kinds of plants you do and don't eat." She smiles too, then glances off to the side. "Should I have--"

"Nah. It's kinda corny, really."

"And the candles?" she asks.

"Just corny enough," you reply, and you bend down to kiss her forehead.

She goes to lie on her bed and you sit next to her. You can't remember being so nervous. Shit, why is this such a big deal? Like, besides the obvious. Twilight seems pretty calm, given the circumstances. You know this will be her first time; maybe she's more chill because she doesn't really have anything to compare it to.

You notice she's been staring at you and you haven't noticed until now, and you both laugh awkwardly. "Sorry," you say, "this is just kinda... y'know."

Twilight slides closer to you. "Why don't we just stick with what we're comfortable with--" She reaches up to give you a long kiss. "--And we'll just see what happens, hm?"

"That sounds good to me," you say, and you kiss her back and run your fingers through her mane.

So you start making out, and for a while there's not much noise except the standard quiet sighing and moaning and stuff. You're also beginning to cultivate a pretty uncomfortable boner--you're jeans-and-t-shirt today instead of one of Rarity's more fabulous creations, but maybe that was a bad idea since they tend to have a bit more room to tentpole in. It's weird, you never really thought much about horses and the like, back home, and if someone had sat you down a year ago and told you this is the position you would be in right now, with your tongue in a magical purple pony's mouth and you sporting a semi, you'd have first told them that magical ponies don't exist, purple or other, and then you'd tell them to fuck off and that you weren't some kind of pervert. But, like, a horse is just a big dumb animal: you're with Twilight Sparkle right now, who's kinda shy and laughs at the dumb jokes you make and likes to read books and has even written a couple herself. You don't even want her to be, like, a human girl, she's just right the way she is.

Like you thought, it's weird.

At some point your t-shirt comes off and Twilight surprises the fuck out of you by licking your nipples. You're at full flag now, or whatever the next stage is beyond half-mast. She gives you a devilish grin. You reach for your belt buckle. She turns around, slowly. This is actually happening. Goddamn.

Twilight Sparkle, Princess Twilight Sparkle, magical talking pony princess Twilight Sparkle, is presenting to you.

You grab your dick in one hand and steady yourself with your other hand on her ass. She's incredibly wet. Like, dripping. You never did that to anyone else you've ever slept with. Feeling like a sexual tyrannosaurus, you start to push your cock inside Twilight. She's warm and soft and suddenly nothing is weird or awkward at all. This is exactly what should be happening. This is awesome. You'll have to start thinking about some seriously boring shit in a second, because otherwise you'll blow your load and that'll be that.

Twilight, most unfortunately, takes care of that problem for you by uttering the four words in the English language guaranteed to slay any erection.

Worse than 'we need to talk'.

Worse than 'surprise, it's your baby'.

Worse than 'I'm actually a dude'.

(Not that you've got anything against guys who are into that, or anything, but you kinda assume they all know about it beforehand.)

Twilight clears her throat and asks in a tiny voice, "...Is it in yet?"

You can feel yourself go limp, and you're pretty sure there was a sad trombone noise to go along with the blood draining out of your dick. You didn't even consider this before why? Fuck! The phrase 'hung like a horse' exists for reasons other than alliteration. It's not like you're lacking in the cock department--nobody ever had reason to complain before--but although these are little ponies, they're not that little. Horses have massive tools--stallions here would have to have dicks like a fucking foot long. At least. And here's you with your decidedly sub-par-by-comparison human chub.

You sink down onto the bed, wondering how you could have been such a dumbass. Twilight's soft hoof on your cheek brings you out of feeling sorry for yourself.

"I'm sorry. I, um..." She takes a breath. "Little hiccup in inter-species compatibility, huh?"

"Yeah," you agree, wincing at the irony of what you're about to say, "just a little."

Twilight bites her lip. "I... could use some magic, to fix things. I mean! Not fix. To, um, make more..."

"No, I get it." You smile at her. Your ego's a bit wounded, but it'll live. It'll probably be back out doing whatever egos do later tonight. That's one of the things you like about Twilight, she's not one to get hung up on dumb stuff like this, especially not when there's a problem that needs solving. "Sure," you say, "magic away." It's always a little cool when Twilight uses her magic on you, anyway.

She closes her eyes and concentrates. Her horn lights up in the dark and surrounds your flaccid dong with a glowing purple aura. It's weird, like your crotch is covered in Diet Pepsi and Pop-Rocks. And then your dick starts to grow.

Not, like, get hard. Well, it does that, too, but it gets bigger. Like, ridiculously bigger. Like one of those pornos where they hose the girls down with fake jizz from a fake cock that looks like a fucking anaconda. Jesus Christ, it's the size of your fucking arm and it just won't stop. It's red and furious and the veins are sticking out like highways on a streetmap and slowly it dawns on you that all you can see is your cartoonishly-enormous Johnson and that the rest of your vision has gone black.

The last thing that crosses your mind before you pass out is that you hope you don't get smacked in the face with your gargantuan meatpole when you fall down.

-/-

When you come to, your head hurts like a motherfucker. Like you were hit by a train full of sledgehammers. You're flat on your back, still in Twilight's bedroom and still bare-ass naked. Oh, and it feels like someone took a cheesegrater to your junk.

You flail around and sit up and look at your dick, expecting to see it bleeding or full or holes or who fucking knows what. It's still there, thank God, and apart from being a bit red it seems okay. Feels like a balloon that's had all the air let out of it, though.

Now you're thinking about the size difference between a fully-inflated balloon and a limp empty one, and that is not an image you want in your head.

"I'm so sorry!" Twilight exclaims. She jumps off her bed and rushes to you. "I didn't think it would do that, I'm really, really sorry! The spell's meant for stallions who want to adjust to the size of their mare, but I didn't take into account the differences in size between a human and..." She presses her muzzle into your neck. "I'm sorry," she says again. "Did... um. Does it hurt much?"

It feels like your dick has been savaged by angry dick-hating weasels. "It's... I'll live," you say.

"I could make it up to you..." she says, and moves a hoof towards your junk that's still throbbing, and not in any way that's good.

You flinch out of the way. "I, uh... maybe not right now, okay?"

"Okay," Twilight says. She stands up so you're eye-to-eye. "Do you want to come to bed with me?" she asks, then shakes her head after the words leave her mouth. "I mean, just to-- we can just read, or talk. Nothing more."

You stagger to your feet. "That sounds pretty good right now," you say.

You climb into bed beside Twilight, and it actually is pretty nice to be there beside her, with the bed all warm and her all soft. You don't read and you don't talk. Twilight just snuggles up to you with her head on your chest and you stroke her mane. It's nice. It's nice enough that you can almost forget your cock feels like it's been fed through a woodchipper. Almost.

"You know," Twilight says idly, "there's other magic I could try. You know, for next time."

"What makes you think there's going to be a next time?" you ask, and you kiss her to make sure she knows you're joking.

"There'll be a next time," she says with a wise smile.

"What sort of magic, though?"

"Something more safe. Transformational magic."

"What," you say, "you'd just turn me into a pony?"

"Well," she says as she runs a hoof up and down your leg, "it doesn't have to be a pony. I've heard some interesting things about minotaurs..."

Author's Note

"Short Dick Man" is a dance number from the mid-90s that is probably best left forgotten.

This was something idiotic I needed to get out of my system. I'll write a real story next time, I swear.